Birthday Girl
by MorganFerdinand
Summary: Rose begs to choose their destination. Also, toast is had.


You're aware that she's talking but the words are just this drone in the back of your mind because you're preoccupied with the dials and the switches and the little blinking light that either means the toast is ready or you're about to lose an important circuit. Or a not-so-important one. Or the toast is already burnt and there's a tape lodged in the video player. Whatever it means has to be more important than the drone that's rapidly turning into a whine and rising in pitch.

So you press your palms flat on the console for just a moment, then stiff-armed push yourself away from it until you're three steps back and she's between you and it and you fold your arms across your chest and look down at her (and hope that you're looking stern and not at all like you're about to laugh because she's staring up at you, frozen in mid-gesture with her jaw hanging like some sort of fish).

Her brows knit together and she snaps her mouth shut, pulling it into a pout. "What" she demands. "What's so funny."

"Nothing," you say gently and place your hands on her shoulders. "Nothing at all, Rose. Now what were you saying? I was busy, and..."

"You mean you _weren't **listening**_!" She snaps and her eyes flash angrily, then (as always when she gets angry) the tears start to well up and her lower lip trembles just slightly and you crumble (as always when the tears well up).

You lightly stroke her hair, then brush the back of your hand against her cheek. "I wasn't ignoring you on _purpose_. I was trying to figure out what that blinking light was."

Rose snuffles and swipes at her eyes with the sleeve of her hoodie as she glances over her shoulder at the console. "What, that one? Means the toast is done. Now will you listen to me?"

"Can I get me toast first?"

"No! I mean yeah, whatever." She waves her hands. The sleeves of her blue hoodie flap with the dismissive motion. You turn to leave and she follows behind you, talking again.

"What I was saying was I want to pick where we go this time. You've picked the last three and I think it should be my turn. You haven't let me pick since it was my birthday."

"When it's your birthday again, you can pick!"

"Fine!" Rose flounces off, and a moment later, while you're putting jam on the toast, the TARDIS shudders hard and makes a loud groaning noise. Rose shouts back from the control room.

"It's my birthday!"

Stuffing toast in your mouth, you investigate. "Your _eighteenth_ birthday, you cheeky thing. Lying about your age already. You'll be as bad as your mum."

She smacks your arm. "Like you've got any room to talk, mister nine-hundred-plus trying to pass like he's in his forties."

"Hey! I don't look that old, do I?"

"What-ever!" She scolds, her accent slightly more pronounced. "It's officially my birthday. Right outside _those_ doors, it's _my_ eighteenth birthday, on _my_ planet, in the year I actually _turned_ eighteen so I get to choose."

"Well we can't have your birthday here."

She rolls her eyes and gives the sigh you've come to identify as the "he's so clever, yet so stupid" sigh. "I _know_ that. Can't run the risk of running into myself. Blah blah blah. Anyhow, I've done my eighteenth here once, already. I want. To. Chooooooose."

You offer her the sigh that she's come to identify as the "I'm going to pretend I'm being generous and giving in, but you were going to get your way all along" sigh and she grins, pumping her fist in victory and hissing a gleeful little "Yessss!"

"So where's it going to be, birthday girl?"

"Jovanka," she says without hesitation.

You cock your head questioningly.

"Been reading the TARDIS databanks. It's supposed to be like the tropics there. Sandy beaches, warm sun, warm water, lots of surfing." She stretches and you try not to notice the pale flash of skin when her shirt lifts away from the waist of her jeans. "Tropical drinks and tanned cabana boys rubbing tanning oil on my back... it just sounds fantastic, doesn't it?"

You wonder what became of the beach umbrella you once had. Maybe if the TARDIS is feeling gracious, she'll put it somewhere you can find it. "Jovanka it is. I've been there before, actually. Interesting story behind the name of the planet." You start setting the coordinates and hazard a sideways glance. "Really, not the sort of story for a birthday. Tell you some other time."

"Mm-hmm." Rose is obviously day-dreaming about tanned cabana boys and what she'll wear on the beach.

The TARDIS dematerialises and hums along for a while, rocketing itself through time and space to the beachfront paradise planet Jovanka. The TARDIS graciously provides you with the umbrella (and several large bathing sheets) and Rose (literally) skips off to change.

Fifteen minutes after "takeoff" you open the door to the TARDIS and the two of you step off into the warm sand.

"Ohh, you can _smell_ it. Smell that, Doctor? That's what an ocean is supposed to smell like. That's what it smelled like that time Shareen and I took off to Majorca for a weekend." She hugs you giddily and makes delighted squeaking noises, completely oblivious to the look of panic on your face.

You don't have the key to the TARDIS.

Judging by the fact that Rose is only wearing a denim shirt over her bathing costume, it's unlikely that she has her key, either.

_No worries_ you say to yourself. _There's plenty of time to pick the lock while Rose is off enjoying herself_.

And _that_ is the moment.

The blue sky turns black in the blink of an eye. Everything seems to groan and reverberate and flash bright white at the same time. Half a moment later, the rain pours down. Within a minute you're both soaked to the skin. Rose's hair is in strings and she's shivering, wrapped in a saturated bathing sheet. Water's running down the backs of your ears and dripping off the end of your nose and you're frantically banging on the TARDIS door, as if a butler would magically appear and let you in.

"Spare me" Rose says through chattering teeth.

"Aye?"

"Spare! Key!" She wails and kicks you in the shin. It hurts a lot for getting kicked by someone wearing rubber sandals.

"Oh!" Your fingers grope quickly in the inside curve of the O in "police" and extract the spare key. It seems like it takes forever before you're tumbling over each other, into the TARDIS.

Still shivering and dripping wet, Rose fixes you with a stare intended to cause death.

"Slight miscalculation. Set us down at the start of rainy season."

"I'd noticed."

"Just give me a moment, aye? I'll just reset things , pop ahead a few months, and everything will be fine!"

"That's what you said the _last_ time this happened," Rose mutters as she stalks off toward her room.

Cheerfully, you go about resetting the destination. _This_ time you're _sure_ you'll get it right.


End file.
